Spring's Immortality / Mackenzie Bell

Spring's Immortality

The buds awake at touch of Spring
  From Winter’s joyless dream;
From many a stone the ouzels sing
  By yonder mossy stream.

The cuckoo’s voice, from copse and vale,      
  Lingers, as if to meet
The music of the nightingale
  Across the rising wheat —

The bird whom ancient Solitude
  Hath kept forever young,    
Unaltered since in studious mood
  Calm Milton mused and sung.

Ah, strange it is, dear heart, to know
  Spring’s gladsome mystery
Was sweet to lovers long ago —      
  Most sweet to such as we —

That fresh new leaves and meadow flowers
  Bloomed when the south wind came;
While hands of Spring caressed the bowers,
  The throstle sang the same.      

Unchanged, unchanged the throstle’s song,
  Unchanged Spring’s answering breath,
Unchanged, though cruel Time was strong,
  And stilled our love in death.

~~

Mackenzie Bell (1856-1930)

from Spring's Immortality, and other poems, 1893

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Mackenzie Bell biography